Imprison
by Prongs.xo
Summary: As a young child, Meena's life became one riddled with loneliness, her dad busy and mother absent. So had Mewtwo's. When times become tough, all they need is a friend. But what happens if your friend is someone you have to live a life of secrecy for?
1. Pigtails

_Disclaimer: I do not own the world of pokemon. _

_I do, however, own Meena, Nikita, André and Jay._

* * *

_This is a story about one of my pokemon characters, Meena. It is the story of a time in her young childhood._

_Meena also appears in my fanfic 'The Birthday he Drew' as May's 13 year old friend and traveling companion. I made her up with that story and decided I really liked her and want to include her in more of my stories._

_The idea for this story came to me randomly. Please give it a chance, as unlike many pokemon fanfictions, it has a main plot and some structure_

_Anyway..I hope you like it! _

_Comments and critism are very much appreciated ____ Thanks!_

_* * *_

_**Imprison**_

* * *

She hunched her schoolbag more securely over her 5-year-old shoulders as she stared ahead. Her reflection she stared at in the mirror was the spitting image of her father, according to her mother, but she never saw it. Sure, they had the same violet hair, but that most certainly was not what defined similarity. Firstly, her rounded face was unlike her father's harsh cheekbones and strong chin, which was covered with graying stubble. Her nose was petite and buttony like most children's were at her age, while his nose was long and hooked. She thought, after a few more moments of consideration, that perhaps her mother saw it in the eyes. Though Meenakshi's eyes were a slightly darker purple shade than her fathers (probably due to her mother's brown eyes), they had the same faraway look to them, as though their minds weren't in the moment, always someplace else, seeing things others didn't. Maybe they were.

Meena sighed and furrowed her brows in frustration. This was definitely _not_ something she could do on her own. Her slightly pudgy fingers due to remaining baby fat were clumsy and not as adept as her mother's at performing complex motions. Her arms could not reach easily to the top of her head, while her mother could simply reach over her.

"Momma!" Meenakshi's lower lip started to tremble as she realized that this would be a task that was suppose to only be done by her mother. It was something she could never do on her own. Her mother had a special way of doing it, along with years of experience on her back.

"Meenakshi, honey, I'll be there in a minute," her mother called from down the hallway.

After many more failed attempts, the tears started to form behind Meena's glassy eyes. "Momma!" she repeated, growing as impatient as you'd expect a five year old to go.

Finally, her mother, with her tall, thin frame and perfect silky chestnut hair, appeared in the mirror's reflection via the doorway. When she saw what her daughter was trying to do, she sighed and smiled a sad little smile.  
"What do you expect to do when I'm not here?" She grabbed a brush and immediately started to detangle Meena's hair. Every stroke of the brush that Nikhita ran through her daughter's hair was filled with affection and unspoken words. There were some things that couldn't be said, and others that young children such as Meenakshi would understand better through the simplest actions.

The violet haired girl remained silent, her eyes growing wetter with each stroke.

"You know Daddy will be here."

Meenakshi knew that this statement held truth as well as falseness. Her father, André, worked full time at one of Johto's largest hopitals, the Cherrygrove Medical Center. He was a skilled man who did what he did for the sake of others. His passion was helping people, and he would do everything that was in his power to get his jobs done. He was not a quitter. Unfortunately, in all his fervor to aide those at the hospital, he often forgot one certain little girl who needed him more than he realized. As a result, he often worked overtime, only coming home once he was satisfied, leaving Meenakshi and her mother faking smiles and pretending to forget that daddy and husband were not there.

Meena would grow up to see it almost as a betrayal her that her mother had left her with a barely present father at such a young age. Nikhita chose to follow her owns dreams partly to leave behind her loneliness instead of staying home and doing what she was suppose to do: be a mother. Of course, at the time, Meena didn't really understand why mommy had to leave. Nikhita told her daughter that she had to go away for work, but when Meena saw her mother on the television a few months later, she doubted her mother's words. So, she confronted her mother, who told her that at home, she felt pent up, like she wasn't where she was suppose to be. She had to follow her dreams. Meenakshi still didn't understand, so Nikhita explained it differently. "Do you remember the day I was leaving when you couldn't put your hair up in your pigtails the way I do them?" Nikhita said into the phone that evening. Her daughter remembered, so she continued. "Try to recall the way you felt. Feeling mad or frustrated that you can't do something the way you want it. Feeling like you would do anything just to get those pigtails just right. Do you know what I mean? That's how mommy felt being at home. Coordinating is my passion, honey. It's my pigtails. It's what makes me who I am." Meena would remember that conversation for years to come, understanding it more and more as the time wore on.

In a way, Nikhita was thinking of her feelings and her needs more than those of her daughter. Essentially, being a mother was all about the opposite: putting your life behind your child's'. But she needed an escape. She wanted to remember how it was to feel alive again, to love. As André no longer gave her those feelings, she turned to something else that she knew would: Pokemon coordinating.

Her mother was already working on the first pigtail. "Daddy's always working," Meena scowled. If she were older, she would probably have wondered who would be here to make her supper. But she was young.

"Your father promised he would come home from work early." Nikhita reassured her daughter. "Also, you know Paranjay will be around."

"Jay's always out helping pokemon," Meena looked at her mom in the mirror. "He doesn't even live in this house anymore!"

"Honey, he only lives two blocks away." Nikhita tried to reassure her daughter. Her eldest son, Paranjay, or Jay, as most people called him, had moved out a month ago. He lived with his fiancé, Claire, who, like him, was a Pokemon Ranger. This job kept them constantly on the move, camping out at different locations every few days. They returned to their apartment on weekends and days they weren't needed. It was convenient that he lived so close, but at the same time not so, as he was usually out.

Meena sighed in reply. She missed having her older brother around. He always seemed to have time for her, whether it was for teaching her things, like how to bake cookies or battle pokemon, or for playing with her, like with her favorite dolls. Meena especially missed his piggybacks, which he always seemed to have time for, as well.

"There we are." Nikhita had just finished her daughter's second pigtail. She proceeded to give her bangs a ruffle and a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks mommy."

"You're very welcome. You're going to have to do them on your own from now on you know, or else just keep your hair down."

"No, no, no! I can never do them like you do." Meena also never liked having her hair down on regular days. It was something that always got in the way of her daily activities, such as eating lunch (she would always get it in her sandwich) or colouring with crayons (her hair would fall on her paper, blocking her picture). Her brother once suggested she cut it short, but that was something Meenakshi would _not_ tolerate. In her whole five years of life, her mom's hair had always been long. As a kid, you're mother is the perfect model of how you should be. At least, that's how it was to Meena.

Anyway, Meena saved having her hair down for special occasions.

"You will get the hang of it. Don't worry. You're a lot like your father but you have my body. That means hands as well. I was just like you when I was little." Nikhita smiled at her daughter.

"Really?" Meena wrinkled her nose.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Nikhita looked down and then went in front of her daughter, sitting on her knees to get to her level. "Honey, no matter what, I love you," she said, looking Meenakshi in the eyes. "Remember that, okay? I love you. Always have, always will."

"Okay momma. I love you too."

Nikhita hugged her daughter, smelling the scent of her peach body wash on her creamy skin. "I love you," she whispered into her ear and kissed her cheek.

Then, she was gone.


	2. Curiosity Killed the Cat

_I know there's no action really coming yet, but I promise there's a good plot. If you read this please let me and know and review. People don't really like to read non real character fics, so I don't expect much to come out of this. But if you read it, tell me what you think. :)_

* * *

It had been a little over a two weeks since Meena's mother had left. André had been making a reasonable effort to get home in time before his daughter's school's afterschool day care closed, which was at 5:30. Unfortunately, on this particularly rainy day, he was called to assist in an emergency surgery, which would surely last hours. André, being the determined and focused man he was, put everything out of his mind, except the surgery he was working on.

"Sweetie, are you sure your dad will be home soon?" asked Caroline, Meena's friend Jennifer's mother, who was responsible for driving Meena home.

"Yes. He's always home before six," Meena nodded and smiled. Even so, she felt a little twinge in the back of her mind, as though what she said wouldn't turn out to be true. She shook the hunch out of her mind.

"Okay. If you need help or anything, we're just down the street," Caroline replied as she unlocked Meena's house for her. All the same, she furrowed her brows worriedly. She felt it was very wrong to drop a five year old off home without any parents present. _Still_, she thought, _I can't be responsible for other people's children all of the time_. "Remember the lock the door, honey."

Meena nodded and then watched the green Toyota disappear down the street.

Meena walked up the stairs to her room, a curious little feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. Never before had she been home alone. It was exciting at the same time as it was scary; she half expected an intimidating ghost pokemon like a Shuppet or a Hunter to come bursting out of her bedroom closet. Meena liked all pokemon, but she wasn't particularly fond of ghost pokemon. The fear started when she was young. When her brother was ten, he got his first pokemon: a ghastly. By the time Meena was three, it had evolved into a powerful Gengar. Her brother thought it would be amusing to come into her room in the middle of the night while Meena and scare her. The memory continued haunting her for years.

Meena sat on her bed and held her Clefary pillow close to her chest, trying to push the bad thoughts out of her mind. She glanced around her room to find something to do. Her eyes fell upon a picture of a lake and sunset she had painted with the paint set her mother had given her for Easter. She remembered exactly how it made her feel: unaware of her surroundings and in control. Yearning for the feeling it gave her, she decided that she'd like to paint a picture again.

She pondered for a moment about what she'd like to paint this time, and finally decided on trying one of her favourite pokemon: Latias.

Meenakshi went to her mini desk in the corner and found a piece of white paper underneath a pile of crayons and some construction paper. She then proceeded to look around for her paint set. She was _sure_ she had left it right on top of her desk. Pushing the paper drawer closed, she looked on the surface of her desk. It was not there.  
She was confused; she remembered her mother clearly telling her that she should keep it right there where she could see it so she doesn't lose it, as it was an expensive present.  
Her little mind struggled to work this out. In her head she held a mental image of her desk from that very same morning. On top of his was her plastic box that contained her acrylic paints and various sized paint brushes. Meena remembered that it was open and she was staring at the pretty purple bottle, noticing how it was similar to the purple shade of her hair. Thinking about her hair suddenly made her little lower lip tremble and her eyes sting with wetness as she thought about how her mother would no longer be there tomorrow to do her pigtails.  
Meena forgot all about her missing paintset and buried herself under her covers. She hugged her pillow tight, trying to shut out the lonely feelings crawling over her.

* * *

The sun was creeping lower and lower in the afternoon sky, turning the blue sky a rich gold and the giving crisp October air a chilly feeling. It was almost evening when Meena woke up and heard the eerie silence, realizing she was still alone.  
She turned over in her bed and stared at the ceiling, a feeling of unease settling once again in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't used to being this unoccupied, and it was starting to frustrate her. She contemplated all of the possibilities of things that she could use to amuse herself, such as playing with her Sailor Moon dolls. But that was never fun alone. Maybe she'd call Jennifer and ask her to play. Maybe she wouldn't.  
What Meenakshi really wanted to do was paint. Her frustration increased as she jumped out of her bed and noticed that her paintset still wasn't on her desk. Perhaps she thought that if she went to sleep, she'd wake up and her paintset would be back. But it wasn't a dream.

That's when the little girl noticed a small paint brush on the floor.  
She bent down and picked it up carefully. It was a smaller brush, and it was definitely hers, as it still had the dark blue she had used to paint the dark sea on it. Curious, she layed on her stomach and looked under her bed. And there it was: the off white plastic box that held her paints.  
Meena reached for it happily and pulled it out from under her bed. But her stomach dropped in pure disappointment as she opened it. There were no paints.

That's when she felt the breeze.

Startled by the sudden gust of chilly air that prickled against her skin which caused her to get goose bumps, she stood up. She walked towards the window that was in between her bed and desk. Meena realized it was wide open. Even more oddly, the screen was gone, as if someone took it off. She thought back in her mind and didn't remember opening her window, let alone taking the screen off. She didn't see why her father would, either. Dropping the plastic case she was still holding in her right hand, she put her hands on the window ledge and peered down.  
_Weird,_ she thought.  
On the bit of roof that was below her window were strange, muddy foot –no, paw- prints. They weren't regular paw prints like those of a Growlithe or Poocheyena. No, these were rather peculiar looking. These prints were long and had two toes at the end.

After studying them for a few more minutes, Meena came to the conclusion that these prints definitely were not human. She knew they had to be from a pokemon, but why would a pokemon want to come in her room? She wondered. And what kind of pokemon had prints like that?  
The image of Jay, her brother came into her mind. Jay would know, she thought. He knows everything about pokemon! She thought about calling him but she realized she didn't know his phone number.

She stared back at the prints for a few more seconds, her brows furrowed. _This pokemon stole my paints. _She knew that that sounded completely bizarre, but she also knew it was very true.

Grabbing her big, comfy, green zip-up sweater, Meenakshi ran downstairs. She struggled to push open the heavy patio door and bounded down the deck and stopped right in her tracks. Or should we say, right on _the_ tracks.  
Three more muddy strange prints were spilled across the dark mahogany wood of the deck. Meena looked down at them closer and recalled a memory from a few months ago.

"_See here, Meena, look at these tracks," said Jay, smiling down at his little sister. Jay had taken Meena with him on a quiet day at work to show her what being a Pokemon Ranger was like. At that time they were trying to find a diseased pokemon who was at risk of spreading its illness to all of the pokemon of that forest. They were to find it and then send it to the Pokemon Center to get healed._

"_Yeah, I see them," she replied, looking at the paw prints curiously._

"_We think these are the tracks of the Umbreon," he replied. He pointed down to the middle of oen of the tracks. "See how they are still kind of wet?"_

"_Uh-huh."_

"_That means that these tracks are recent. That Umbreon was here maybe only twenty minutes ago!"_

Back on the desk of her house, Meena looked down at the peculiar tracks. She lifted a finger and ran it along the nearest track. It her finger slid across the mud, which didn't crack underneath her fingers. She knew that this must meant that this pokemon was in her room maybe only hours ago.

Staring out onto the path that ran behind her house and into the forest beyond, she noticed many more prints. She narrowed her eyes, determined to find the pokemon and get her paints back. She ran down and out of the safety of her home and into the wilderness, following the prints.

And she was gone.


End file.
